Imprisonment in Malfoy Manor
by HawthornRose
Summary: Set in DH when trio are captured in Malfoy Manor, this is an AU where Bellatrix's knife misses Dobby and stabs Harrys hand, leaving him trapped at Malfoy Manor. Imprisoned, at the mercy of the Death Eaters, what events will conspire? Will Draco Malfoy help, hinder or just be dragged along the easy path? And will Harry escape? At what cost, when the toll on him is already so high? M
1. Captured

**Not quite sure where this story will lead, but set in DH when Harry, Ron and Hermione get captured and then escape from Malfoy Manor. However, needing a house elf to apparate, what happens if the knife misses Dobby and stabs Harry's hand, causing them to become separated? Death Eaters were never the best hosts for some-one like Harry, but where does Drao stand and what's going on behind the scenes for him? Rated M for a good reason! I don't own Harry Potter, credit to the Queen! Please review – positive or constructive, both are good. Thanks! :)**

"Ron, catch and GO!" He yelled, throwing one of the wands at him. Harry seized Dobby's hand and spun on the spot to disaparate with him. But mid-turn he could see a silver object flying, there was a sudden immense pain in his hand, making it instinctively spread. This, and the wet blood, meant that as the others Dissaperated, Harry's hand slid from its grasp, and he was left standing in the middle of Malfoy Manor, entrapped with the characters of his nightmares.

There was but a seconds' silence of shock – Harry's then immediate reaction was to run, but cords bound him and he was immobilised. Panic washed over, and then the room span out of focus as his scar seared with blinding pain. _They have destroyed one!_ _Into the crashing ocean depths he fell, pain ripping through his body and a howl escaping his lips as part of his maimed soul died. Blackness surrounded him..._

And from this blackening Harry pulled the present back into focus. He realised he was screaming, and pain really was contorting itself within him... and then his blood was acid, snakes were coiled round him, tightening, constricting, suffocating, a thousand daggers were slicing at his skin- and then it stopped. He was lying spread eagle on his back on a cold, hard stone floor, three wands pointed at him. All had performed the cruciatous curse at the same time. His vision had tunnelled, but as everything started to swim back into focus he could see Belatrix, Lucius and Narcissa's gleeful faces leering over him. He tried to sit up, he had hardly any strength left...

Suddenly the pain was back; every muscle was knotting, congealing, turning to stone, he could hear screaming a thousand miles away- and it was over again. He was gasping, covered head to toe in a cold sweat, lights were brightening and dimming, the ebbing blackness began to take over his sight, sounds were becoming irrelevant...

"Enervate!" Said a sharp voice, and suddenly all senses were painfully heightened back to their usual state, as if someone had thrown cold water over him.

"Draco," The same voice said, sounding dangerously sweet. "Wouldn't you like to join in the fun? Prove to daddy and mummy that you really are a Death Eater?"

"Don't talk-"

"Shut up, Cissy!" The voice snarled, before returning to it's twisted lilt "What? Are you afraid he will prove himself worthless _again_? Come Here!"

From the gaining grasp of reality Harry could make out the pale faced blonde, just taller than himself, edging into his view. Draco stooped down and picked his wand up off the floor where Harry had dropped it. Not that Harry cared, but he looked torn, as if holding an internal war with himslef.

"Well, go on, Draco!" Said a rougher voice, egging him on with an almost pleading tone.

The wand pointed to him, "_Crucio"_ his body jerked as a spasm of pain fled through him, but this was nothing compared to earlier.

"Mean it Draco." The voice spoke of all haunted warnings and threats if he did not comply.

Draco narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowed. A gurgling laugh escaped Harry's lips – it reminded him of his third year, trying to think of something happy to create a patronus. But this was as different as black was to white. One shade of grey away. The laugh soon gave way to shouts of pain, agony, he didn't know where it was coming from, it felt as there was a huge whole inside of him, everything was collapsing inwards, twisting down into this miserable cold black vaccume... and then blackness took him again.


	2. Lacerating Fire

He ached all over. There was hardly any light everything was dim, his shoulder felt as if it were dislocated. For a wild moment he thought he was back at the Dursley's, before reality came washing back. He wasn't in some muggle house, he was in Malfoy Manor, and, presumably, one of it's dungeons.

He tried to move before realising, to his horror, he was chained. He couldn't move for chains, see for the light, no sounds reached his ears and his voice felt hoarse, he could barely breathe a sound from it.

The pain of thirst and hunger reached him then, in this miserable little cell he couldn't escape from. And, for reasons Harry was sure no one else could understand, this didn't feel like a new or alien experience. He remembered when he was eight and told a teacher that Dudley had hit him, he barely ate for three days, aside from the Dursley's leftovers and a glass of water Petunia gave him early each morning before his uncle awoke.

Thanks to the chains he remembered, too, when Piers had to go home early but managed to help Dudley tie Harry to a tree. He remembered suddenly realising that the string didn't feel like string and he realised he was holding a snake in it's place. But Harry wouldn't allow his memory to go further than that. It was possibly the worst thing he had done with his 'freakish behaviour' before knowing he was a wizard. The memory was tightly locked away.

He looked at his shoulder and prodded it gingerly, then winced. Not broken, but dislocated. He took a deep breath, knowing what he had to do, as no-one else was likely to heal it for him. He closed his eyes and rammed his shoulder into the wall – with a sickening crunch he heard the bone go back in. He retched, feeling sick and dizzy with pain, but did not faint.

Hours passed, with nothing to do but listen to the drip, drip, dripping coming from somewhere in the corner and hear the tick, tick, ticking of the undetonated bomb inside his mind. His throat was so sore even breathing seemed to hurt, as if he were dragging sand rather than air into his lungs.

Finally, _how long had it been, _he heard quiet footsteps on the stairs. A tiny vial of liquid and a lump of stale bread was pushed through the narrow bars, presumably by a house elf. Harry snatched the tiny vial from the floor and immediately, unthinkingly, swallowed it.

He knew from the moment it touched his lips this was a mistake, but it was too late. For all his coughing and spluttering, trying to force that foul poison from his throat, it burned its way down to his stomach; he was on fire surely, being eaten from the inside out by this infernal blaze, his torso incinerated, his heart was now stampeding, the rage of the fire burning, burning, burning. He wanted to black out from the pain – anything to make it stop, the heat was beyond endurance; why wasn't he already dead, why could he not see any flames, why was it lasting so long, it should have stopped by now, he should not still be alive, how long could this fire torment his body? Burning, BURNING, _BURNING_, _**BURNING**_...

Was it a week? A year? Thirty minutes? All concept of time, space, everything was lost to the erupting and now eventually dying heat. Wails and screams were finally turning to low moans and whimpers. Eventually, eventually... he felt the darknesses welcome invasion to his mind, as he slipped out of consciousness, he thought he heard a sob that was not his own...


	3. Voices and Potions

"You _fools!_" hissed a voice, filled with venom, "If the boy dies at your hands you will have hell to pay! You do not have the slightest concept of how painful your punishment will be at the hands of the Dark Lord if you kill him!"

"It won't die, Severus." Replied a bored voice. "I've seen the rat live through worse."

"You had better solomnley hope he won't die."

"Well, do you have anything to keep his precious existence with us then?"

"I did not come unequipped. What did you feed him?"

"A concentrated dose of Lacerating Fire. He drank twice the dosage as well, greedy swine." A trace of amusement entered the otherwise bored sounding male voice.

"How concentrated?"

"Triple."

"YOU FED HIM SIX TIMES OVER THE DOSAGE OF LACERATING FIRE DESPITE THE DARK LORDS INSTRUCTIONS!" A different voice bellowed, furious.

"Keep your voice down Nott, I'd like to remind you that this is _my_ manor." Lucius Malfoy growled.

The replying voice, now almost deadly silent, had impossibly more menace laced behind it. "You've lost almost everything, Malfoy. You don't even have your own wand. If I were you I would tread very, _very _carefully." Too this, there was no response.

Light flickered onto the back of Harry's eyelids, and they snapped open, wary. He could hear voices and footsteps approaching and he skirted back, realising he was no longer in the chains, but that there were also blistering red marks where they'd held him around his wrists and ankles.

He shielded his eyes as three lighted wands came round the corner, though one distinctly less bright than the others. Looking up again and into their faces he could see Lucius, Snape and another man whom he hardly recognised – but instantly hated. Hating himself for backing into the furthest corner, hating their mocking laughs for it, hating everything, Harry glared at them with utmost loathing.

"More potions, Potter?" Lucius asked, sneering maliciously. Harry blanched, trying to hide his terror behind his hate.

"Get away from me you cunt" He snarled as Snape strode towards him, but his voice was barely audible from screaming itself hoarse. Nott, however, had heard it, and consequently shot an orange jet at Harry which caused him to thrash like a drowning man until Snape pointed out he couldn't administer the potions with him in such a state. In truth, he found he couldn't administer the potions whilst Potter was in a conscious state, even under the persuasive influence of the Imperious Curse, so stunned him and was releaved the swallowing reflex still worked.

Snape eventually turned to the other two men. "I am under the impression that the Dark Lord requires Potter to be in an able-bodied and able-minded state. So for Merlin's sake you'd better not de-limb or send him over the breach of insanity for all our sakes." He hissed in his oily voice.

"Won't you join us for some sport, Severus?" The question implied and implored at a number of things.

"I never said I wouldn't," he smirked slightly "But I have a school to run, instead of just playing host to our, ah, friends."

The three men left with their cruel voices, and Harry, try as he might, could not stop the tears from leaking through his eyes as he awoke, missing Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Hogwarts and life. Just missing life.


	4. The Art of Bellatrix Lestrange

Harry's eyes flew open as rope like steel cords suddenly bound him. He couldn't move, he couldn't break their power over him. He heard some-one mutter a spell and found himself floating in mid-air, moving out of the cell and up stone stairs. A door opened and Harry squinted against the light but fought to keep his eyes open at the same time.

"Where do you want it?" Although dead of emotion, almost devoid of life, Harry recognised that voice to belong to Draco Malfoy, his school arch-nemisis. Such rivalry seemed petty now – he was just one of _them_, and individual names and traits didn't matter. _They_ were his hatred.

Bellatrix cackled and told him to keep his hands bound above his head and put him in the middle of the room. The rope was magically tied to the ceiling from a hook. She then waved her wand and Harry was declothed, and completely and entirely vulnerable. He was at her mercy. Draco was about to leave when he heard her call to him. Pulling on a mask to hide his disgust he turned to her.

"Come here," She cooed, "I'll teach you a beautiful art." Draco thought he'd rather cut his own ears off than learn her 'beautiful art' - but the consequences would probably be much more severe, so he walked back to her, trying to look proud and almost delighted, hungry for the information. "Watch the patterns I can make," she said, sounding like a child who had found a portal to fairyland.

Harry watched her circle him, looking him up and down as if he were an interesting three-dimensional canvas. He clamped his mouth shut and tried not too shout as her knife was drawn up his side and along his ribcage, then around the shoulder blade – but when she forced the knife in to his shoulder harder, digging into the muscle and sinew, he could not hold back a muffled yell from sealed lips. She giggled like a maniac, twisting the knife until she heard her scream. She didn't take it out then, though. He had to beg for her mercy, beg her to stop until she would.

"Now, Draco, now watch this. Pretty patterns can be made with blood and words here." She drew her knife along him again in a single, drawn out, fluid cut, then again she pushed the knife in futher, into his thigh this time, watching his face greedily as if his pain, his shouts and screams were essential nectar. As if a need. "Now, Potter, who really killed Sirius Black, hmm?" Draco felt the colour drain from his face. He didn't want to be part of this. Yes, he picked on first and seccond years now and then if they got on his nerves. That kind of stuff happened. But this... words failed him.

Harry heard her ask the question, the horrible question he never wanted to answer. He'd watched her killing curse hit him, but he knew that's not what she meant. He'd told Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore and Lupin how he felt guilty for Sirius's death and that he was sure it was his fault. But this was different. And as she drove the knife slowly deeper and deeper into his thigh he wondered how much he could endure. He felt it's cold silver deepening through his flesh and screamed, his legs gave way under him but he was suspended by his arms, his sleft shoulder dislocated again and Bellatrix began twisting the knife this way and that, and asked him again because he'd already forgotten – who really killed Sirius?

"I did" The strangled confession slipped from his throat, because he'd always known it – always known it was his fault that Sirius died, and it was his fault that Cedric died. His friends consollations couldn't provide the truth that he knew, buried deep in his heart.


	5. Lucius' Ultimate Blackmail

Bellatrix laughed in delight and stroked a tear from his face, then told him that she'd be back soon. "Draco will keep you company though, won't you Draco?" She said. He nodded stiffly and then turned his back to a weeping Harry and stared at the fire. Because what could he do? It was impossible to get Potter out – the rest didn't trust him anyway. He couldn't stop Bellatrix – any move to and she would just heighten the torture for her derranged insanity.

By the time he knew enough to make a choice, he knew to much to have one. He should have listened to everyone else, but almost the everyone Draco knew explained and rationalised everything away – or they did until he bore the Dark Mark himself. From then on, there was no turning back.

In fact, Draco wondered if he'd ever really had a choice.

Not since he killed his sister. Draco squinted at the memory. He was seven. His sister was nine, and she was a squib. No-one other than Draco, his father and mother knew about her. He wasn't sure if she even had a name. She was called _she, her, the girl _or _the squib_. He just remembered his father giving him a big sharp knife and said they were playing a game. He said that _she_ was tied up and Draco had to save the family by putting the knife into her chest, very quickly, and it had to go all the way in. Did he understand? Good.

Draco still remembered her screams, remembered wondering why she was so upset when it was just a game. Why she never got back up. He remembered seeing the light leave her eyes.

He remembered his father reminding him of it a year later, saying if he was ever bad and people found out he might go to Azkaban. He had to never, ever tell. So he never had. He pretended he couldn't see Thestrals. No-one ever knew. No-one ever geussed. But it was always there, lurking in the shadows of his mind. It was his father's best ever blackmail. If he didn't agree, he didn't follow, then the word of his murderous act would get out. Then what side would he have to turn to? None. Who would be there, what family would he have, who could ever care for him if he turned from the Dark Lord's side? No-one.

So, no, Draco guessed that although he did have choices, it was the 'give me your money or die' kind of choice. The choice that was never, really, availble.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry managed to stand on his good leg, to try to lessen the excruciating pain in his arm. His other leg was useless. Malfoy had his back to him and he was pretty sure Bellatrix had left the room. All the same, he tried to stop the tears. Neither did he want anyone to hear his sobs. But he couldn't dry away any tears that fell, his hands were tied above his head, and the pain was far too much too bear.

_I killed Sirius. It's my fault he's dead. I killed him._

It felt like he hung their for hours, his one good leg was shaking and none of him would be able to bear his own weight soon. More likely in only ten minutes, he heard footsteps behind him. He refused to look round, to do so would suggest fear. He clenched his teeth together, swearing he would try not to make a sound despite the impending attack.

"Potter," Her voice sang, "Potter, look at what I've brought you! Isn't it wonderful?" He turned his head, only able to see her by craning his neck. Bellatrix was standing there, her eyes alight with mad deleriousity, and in her hand was... _crap. _

A small black handle was attached to a long leather cord with a shiny metal tip on the end. She laughed, "Oh this won't do much internal damage. That's the beauty of it. Skin deep only, the Dark Lord won't be deprived of a final duel, and I'm not deprived of your pain." With that she drew her arm back and then lashed it forwards, the whip hit Harry's skin with a sickening CRACK, and he gasped in pain, it stung like a thousand wasp stings,

CRACK

_gasp _

CRACK

_gasp _

CRACK

_whimper_

_CRACK_

_moan_

_CRACK_

_aaah_

_CRACK CRACK_

_no_

_CRACK CRACK_

_please_

_CRACK_

_please, stop!_

_CRACK CRACK CRACK_

_AAAH_

… and it went on

"Throw him back where he belongs, Draco."

Harry felt himself fall to the floor. Then he was floating, moving, it was getting cooler darker but that might just be him, and then he was dropped on a different cold, hard floor. Cold eyes looked at him. They looked sorrowful. Cold eyes looked at him.

"Father, will I be travelling by floo powder tomorrow?"

"No."

"I have to take the train?"

"You wont be going anywhere."

Incomprehension flickered across the younger Malfoy's face. Schoolwork, for some reason or other, had always mattered to his father, nothing less than the best grades would please him. Why such an abrupt turn? He didn't trust the question, but couldn't help but ask "Why?"

"Because of our _special guest._ You aren't leaving, and the Dark Lord may arrive at our very house any day, at any point. You are a Malfoy and Potter is captured in the Malfoy Manor. You will study here."

Some part of Malfoy was relieved – he hated the school now it was run by the Carrow's, they seemed to despise fun unless it was from them torturing some-one. Malfoy was a bully and he felt no guilt at that; but torture was different. Torture was cold and hard and merciless, and the victim was just that – a victim. Unfortunate, helpless and pitiful. An idiot who earned himself a good punch or well chosen hex for insulting his family came away knowing not to insult the Malfoy family. A victim of torture came away knowing the world was a cruel and dark place, and what hate really was.

Some part of Malfoy groaned in annoyance – he had grown to hate this place, and everyone else in it also saw the day wasted if someone, usually a witless muggle, wasn't victim of obscenities. Even the house elves were foul.

What was obvious, though, was that no-one trusted him enough to present him with a narrow opportunity to alert anyone of Potter's whereabouts. His reluctance to kill was a giant flaw in the other Death Eaters eyes, unsurprisingly, and he was almost impressed he hadn't been killed already. Probably to do with him being the last Malfoy heir and his pure blood – he could produce children with noble blood if he impregnated the right girl. He and Pansy Parkinson had their marriage arranged and planned from before they were born.

It was lunch the next day when his father told him to bring Potter out again. He walked down the cold stone steps to the dungeons he knew to well to fetch the boy. He wasn't in a good state – blood everywhere, one arm looked oddly out of place and he was staring with that haunted stare prisoners get if they survive the first few rounds of torturing. His eyes snapped to Draco, and were filled with loathing, disgust but most prominantley fear.

Draco kept his mask of cool indifference and bound him in magickal rope again, before unlocking the door to levitate him out. Back up the stone steps and into the main Drawing room, through more corridors and into the another room. "Where do you want him?"

"On the floor, there." Draco dropped Harry onto the the floor with a dull, thud, then turned to leave. But, like yesterday with Bellatrix, his father commanded him to stay "My studies?" Draco inquired.

"I am teaching you today. These spells will be more useful than what the Carrow's can teach. Remove the bonds"

Draco did as he was told and then walked back and sat on a long sofa, watching. "Do you require my wand?"

Despite his blank tone, Lucius felt a flash of jealous, bitter anger and glared at his son. "Yes." He snatched the wand from his sons offering hand then turned back to Harry and removed the binding rope. "Escindio" He snarled, and Harry mad a gagging noise, his face contorted with pain and all muscles tensed, but he didn't move an inch, as if something was pressing a huge weight upon him. His skin turned red, then an odd yellowish colour and then purpley-blue. Lucius didn't lift the curse until he heard a crack as one of Harry's ribs snapped from the pressure.

He began coughing and spluttering, and then turned onto all fours as blood gushed from his mouth. "Father, we're supposed to keep him alive!" Draco cried out, unable to keep the anxiety from his voice and standing up.

"I know that you insolent child!" Lucius snapped, as he slapped Draco across the face. It made a resounding crack across the room and left an red impression of his hand where it had hit.

Draco didn't look up until he had taken a few steadying breaths. His tone was quieter this time "I apologise, father. Forgive me." There was no reply, so Draco moved to sit down again.

"Don't you know any healing spells, Draco?" His voice was harsh, abrasive.

"No, father."

Lucius cursed, and then commanded his son to carry the Potter boy back to the dungeon and have a house elf see if she could fix him.

"And Draco"

"Yes Father?"

"Get back to your studies and learn some bloody healing spells. You can practice them on your wrists."

Draco reddened, ashamed. Of course nothing would get past him. Nothing ever did. "Yes, Father." He whispered.

***So, what do you think so far? Big thanks to those who've already commented so far, I'll try to update asap (again today if I can :) )***


	7. Trying to Help

Harry heard steps approaching, he tried to push himself away but his ribs seared with pain in protest and he gave up. From where he was lying he could see the black dragon-hide boots had stopped outside the barred door. There was a click and it swung open. Harry craned his neck to see who it was.

Draco Malfoy crouched down, and looked at him for a minute in silence. He then drew out his wand and pointed it at Harry, who immediately shirked away despite his aching body. A jet of light flew from the wand, but instead of the anticipated pain, Harry instead felt a warm glow over his skin, as if he were light as a feather. It held for a few minutes, and then faded. Harry looked up with questioning eyes, but before he could speak another spell flew at him. This one was far more painful and it hit his broken rib. He cried out in pain as it felt as if rough hands were jerking it back in place, forcing it to contract, but that too passed. The last spell hit his torso too, and this time it felt very warm, hot, he turned over and coughed up more blood until he was relived of whatever spell he was put under.

"Mal-"

"Obliviate"

Harry's face went momentarily blank, and Draco turned on his heel, closed and locked the door, and left.

The next day assault came from Bellatrix, who was now using a whip with a barb on the end. It meant she could only mangle the flesh on his back, but the pain was beyond excruciating. She had Harry beg for mercy, but wouldn't stop until he called Sirius worthless scum. He passed out and was enerverated three times before gurgling the sentence. Draco stopped the blood flow and cleaned the flesh of infection before leaving the cell. It was all he dared do lest someone find out. He wiped Harry's memory again.

The day after Draco hauled Harry to his father, he was made to leave. Draco cast a silencing spell on the room. There was only one type of torture that didn't require his audience. He didn't want to think or hear what was going on, and couldn't look either in the eyes when he came to return Potter to his cell. Draco took a knife to his own flesh again that night. In the morning he healed the wounds and cleaned the blood, but there were still faint scars upon the once smooth skin.

Another day passed and the meagre food was laced with Delerium Nightwood – a potion which caused the most frightening hallucinations. They laughed as three Snatchers were tasked with wearing various disguises of monsters and Harry screamed and begged and yelled incomprehensible things, running mad and trying to hide behind armchairs and in the corners of whatever room he'd been chased too.

At dinner Draco heard them talking of bringing Fenir in tomorrow to give him a scare. They were debating over whether the Dark Lord would mind Potter being made a werewolf and how deep the scars would be allowed to run. Draco was tasked to make Potter eat another meal. It wasn't spiked with much but he would have to force it down his throat if that was the case. Potter couldn't die at their hands, whatever the cost.

Harry watched as tiny black dragons walked towards him. White hands placed something on the floor in front of his eyes. A lump of bread and raw meat.

"Eat it."

Harry did nothing. There was no way he would eat or drink another thing. Dying would be easier. The voice spoke again, something about putting the food in his mouth of finding a foot there instead. He did nothing.

"Please?" The voice whispered

Silence.

"You have to eat it. It's not poisoned." The voice begged Harry's trust, and he laughed. He couldn't help but laugh, for all the pain it caused him to move. _It's not poisoned. Trust me._ Harry laughed again, tears falling from his eyes. He sounded mad and he knew it. _Trust a Death Eater? Trust MALFOY? _Harry laughed and wouldn't stop until the food was shoved into his gaping mouth. He spat it out and screamed until was met with a silencing charm. "Eat it or I'll hold you under the Cruciatous Curse until you do." The voice had turned cold and left no doubt he would.

A full hour later Draco stood up to leave. He then paused, remembering what the others had said about Fenrir. He yanked a long, thin leather cord from around his neck. On the end hung a silver tooth, a gift from his mother three years ago. He pushed it into Harry's hand, not daring look at him. He turned on his heel, shut and locked the door, and left.

"DRACO!" He heard his name being yelled. He pinched the bridge of his nose, heart hammering in fear, before composing himself to a mask of bored confusion. His father strode into the room, fury etched upon his face. "Draco, answer me this. How the HELL did Potter get hold of this?" He held up the necklace, the silver tooth looked mishaped and was covered in blood. His father pushed his face up close and snarled "This is yours, am I correct?"

Draco frowned, putting a hand to the nape of his neck and moving to his collar bone, as if searching for the absent cord. "Yeah, but why in-"

"That. Is precisely. What I am asking. Why the hell did Potter have this on him when Greyback tried dealing with him?"

Draco pretended to think, "I guess it must have slipped off last night when I was trying to make him eat. Or the brat could have snatched it without me realising, he kept thrashing about."

"DON'T LIE TO ME! LEGLIMENS!"

Draco had anticipated this, he threw up his barriers, not allowing his father to enter. He'd learnt occlumency last year from Bella and Snape, and practised enough times to put up a worthy fight. His father, although skilled at leglimens, was in possession of a different wand which didn't seem to co-operate too well. He'd been trying to find a replacement from dead Snatchers or other prisoners, but so far the best one was Draco's, who was right now in possession of it.

"What are you hiding? What Draco? Why are you putting up barriers?"

"I'm not. I suppose that wand isn't quite _up to it_. Would you like to borrow mine to scour my mind with?" His voice dripped heavy with sarcasm; no wand would perform against it's master. Having said that, the wand _hadn't _felt like Draco was it's mater since capturing Potter, but no-one needed to know about that.

Lucius hissed and turned away, but then paused. Draco took a step back immediately, but didn't dodge the slap quick enough. The hand was gloved with metal plates on the finger tips – the slap was anticipated from the assailant. Draco was pushed to the floor and spiked boots kicked him once, twice, three times. Then they left. Draco didn't make a noise, didn't defend himself. It was his father. He couldn't.


	8. The Seccond Prisoner

Bellatrix was with them the next evening. Narcissa looked thoroughly displeased with this for some reason and kept shooting Draco worried glances, but wouldn't answer to what the matter was. She instead pursed her lips into a thin line and told him to get back to his studies.

It was night, and Draco was in his study, books and ornaments lined the shelves which towered to the high ceiling. He heard a faint tap at the door "Draco, come out here for me." It was Bellatrix; half of Draco wanted to stay in the study and tell her to eat batsdroppings, but he knew better. Wearily he crossed the room and opened the door, slipping out into the corridor. No-one was allowed into his study – the spells could probably be broken, but there was no need. Draco always came when summoned.

The witch was standing there with the dangerous smile upon her dark lips. "Come, I need you to take the animal back to the dungeons." Draco frowned – he didn't see why she had gone to the trouble of finding him when she could have put Potter back easily herself, but spoke nothing of it. He guessed some-one else had brought Potter to the drawing room, upon entering he was met with a horrible sight.

The boy was laying on the ground, sobbing, with burns, bruises and cuts hashed across his skin. He was wrapped in a chain that glowed red hot whenever his body gave a violent shudder. Something told Draco, though, that these, for some reason, weren't the sole cause of such a tormented face. "Would you like to hear what Potter told me, Draco?" she asked, laughing. "He called his friends worthless. He said Sirius Black deserved to die. He told me his parents were not worthy of licking my shoes." She crossed over and yanked his hair so his face pointed at her. He didn't seem to react, as if he were just a rag doll. "He's a filthy little traitor. What are you?"

Potter mumbled something incomprehensible, but Lestrange seemed happy enough with it.

"Take him away then, Draco." She commanded. He walked over, not bothering to bind Potter up, and with a flick of his wand had him floating along by his side. Blood dripped a trail to the dungeon cell, where he put the tortured creature down. He tried to step back, when he felt a hand holding him in position. He tensed, staring at his deranged aunt. "I thought I said you had some lessons to learn, hmm?" She hadn't but Draco nodded stiffly. "Show me your cruciatous curse on the animal." She pointed to Potter.

Draco turned to him. He slowly raised his wand, and looked at the sobbing, helpless victim. His hand shook, he opened his mouth but no sound came out... "Cru- cru-" Suddenly the hand shoved him, hard. Off guard, Draco stumbled forwards, spinning round he saw Bella slam the door, cackling.

"Too late, Malfoy!" She screeched

"NO! YOU FUCKING BITCH! HOW DARE- SECTUM-"

"EXPELIARMUS!" Draco's wand flew from his hand and Bellatrix caught it. Laughing madly, she returned upstairs, ignoring Draco's shouts and curses entirely.

Draco sank to the floor and put his head in his hands. "_Shit."_

After what felt like an eternity of black silence, broke only by Harry's muffled sobs, a houself was heard on the stairs. She had a face like a pig snout and never spoke, just pushed food and a jug of water through the bars, then left.

Draco sighed, he wished they still had that old houself in their service. It had been expelled in Draco's second year – he couldn't remember the things name, only at times when his father had been rough, the elf had disobeyed his father to bring him some comfort – a thin blanket or extra food, or when he was much younger had summoned his mother despite her requests to be left alone. There was no chance at getting such thing from this one.

Draco sniffed the contents of the jug, then put his finger in. Nothing happened. He took it out and sucked it, sensitive to any stinging or tingling. Finally he took a sip and waited before taking a large gulp of what he now knew to be water.

He looked over at Harry in the dim light, and sighed. He ripped off the sleeve of his robe and put it into the water, then dabbed it on the boys' skin. He heard an audible gasp and the body jerked.

"For gods sake I don't have my wand so this is all that's left, alright?" He felt irritable, and he couldn't help Potter if he had gone mad. It was a likely possibility, but not something he truly believed. He didn't want to believe it.

More strips of his robe had been torn, and quite a bit of the water had been used, but finally the cuts had stopped bleeding too much and the burns didn't look quite as sore. Harry had faded in and out of consciousness and finally passed into what looked like a fitful sleep.

Draco wasn't going to make himself as vulnerable as that though – he and Potter could take shifts to sleep and wake once he could be sure he could rely on his former enemy not to simply pass out during his shift.

He sat, rigid against the stone wall, staring straight ahead at nothing. His mind was a chaotic whirlwind between thoughts and not thinking.

Finally Harry stirred, took a shuddering breath, and then tentatively sat up, wincing. Malfoy watched him with an unreadable expression, and it took harry a few moments to realise what this meant. At first he was shocked to the core – _why the hell is _Malfoy_ in _here_? _

Then it came rushing back to him.

He'd been dropped on the floor, he heard Bellatrix say something, then Malfoy's voice stutter. He suddenly went flying towards Harry, then just as fast span around and started shouting. The door had slammed shut and there was laughing.

After that everything was a little blurry. He remembered a cold damp cloth on him, first a shock, then a pleasant sensation as it took the bite from the burns and stings and welts that marked his body. Looking down at himself now he could see scraps of bandages tied around him in makeshift bandages.

Before he could ask, Malfoy cut in "I didn't want you making a bloody mess everywhere. It's fucking disgusting. And rotting flesh stinks so next time you think somethings going to get infected, then by the _vipers_ could you use the water to _wash it out_."

His voice was harsh and cold, filled with malice. But that didn't align to his actions. Harry peered at him, frowning.

"What?"

There was a moment of silence. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for doing _what_? I think _thank you_ that I didn't throw you to the _damn_ hell where you belong is perhaps a bit more appropriate. Or didn't that cross your _thick skull_?" Draco was venting, throwing all his anger and hatred into his voice and words like he always did when he was angry.

If they were at school, if they were in their fifth year, if nothing other than viscous insults and a few wayward curses had occurred between them, Harry would have returned with his own biting comment, or even a hex if he was in a sour mood.

But Malfoy had been thrown in the dungeons for refusing to torture Harry when he was weakest, and had then, rather than beating him into the next oblivion like he could have done, had washed and dressed his wounds. And that owed something.

Harry looked at him gently. "I'm sorry this has happened to you. I'm more grateful than I can express. _Thank you." _He paused and thought for a moment. "I don't blame you for being angry and hating me right now either."

Draco glared at him "Who said I was angry and who says I hate you?"

"Well you sound kind of angry at me, and we've never exactly been best buddies either, huh?" He gave a hollow laugh.

"To be honest I don't think I can care enough to hate you. You're just another git I used to know and is now locked down in this FUCKING HELL HOLE!" Malfoy stood up, suddenly infuriated, every pent up emotion coming to the surface, "You don't mean a FUCKING thing! You'll be DEAD within TWO BLOODY WEEKS! You don't know SHIT! YOU'VE JUST GOT _NO_ **FUCKING CLUE**" a strangled, shuddering gasp escaped his lips, "Not a fucking clue... not a...not a fucking clue..."

He kept on mumbling the last sentence to himself as he broke down, tears leaking from his eyes and he couldn't stop them, as he leaned back against the wall and sank slowly to the floor.

Harry looked at him in worry and shock. The only other time he remembered someone loose it close to this was when he himself broke down in Dumbledore's office after loosing Sirius,

He couldn't help it – he crawled ever and put a hand on Malfoy's arm, although mostly expecting him to shake it off and perhaps punch him. It took him by surprise, then, when the sobbing boy leant against his shoulder as his body shook, racked with grief and trauma.

Potter held him, as everything that had happened and had been bottled up within the two years of Voldermort's exponential rise and return, suddenly came out, like a shaken champagne bottle when the cork exploded from the bottle.

His father's punishments, his mothers growing distance and coldness, the torture he had to watch time and time again, the torture and terrible deeds he made been made to perform himself, what happened when the other Death Eater's thought he was too soft, the people he'd tried to come to understand before they were so brutally killed, the guilt, the misery, the shame and, now and eventually, finding himself here. Leaning upon who should have been his worst enemy, locked and imprisoned within the dungeons of his own home by his own family. It was to much. It was just too much to keep locked within, to keep controlled, to keep unseen. It was just too much.

**** Sheesh! This story's got a lot darker than I meant it too – but ah well. (Poor Draco, huh?) Thanks a lot too everyone who's reviewed, means a lot :D There IS a happy ending; it's not just depressing! Hope you liked it, keep up the feedback and again a big thanks to those who do.**


	9. No Choice

There were footsteps on the stairs and Draco jerked awake, stood up and stared wairly as Snape came into view. He relaxed slightly, and greeted him "Sev."

His godfather narrowed his eyes and looked him up and down, checking for marks of abuse. "You're a fool, Draco." He said in a hushed voice.

"I couldn't keep doing it. I'm not a Death Eater and they shouldn't have made me one in the first place. I'm not going to bend to them again. I can't." His voice choked slightly on the last sentence and he looked away.

Severus looked at him intensly and felt a swell of pity for the young man before him."There is a plan to get you out. In three days there is a full moon, so Greyback and the other two werewolves won't be on guard. That means they won't smell you, and Narcissa will be able to smuggle you out using a concealment potion. We can't use charms as they will be detected, which is why I'm here. As well as this; give them to Potter." He handed a number of potions to Draco through the bars. "They're labelled – I trust you know how to administer each of them?"

Draco nodded, he was relieved but not surprised of the escape plan. "Of course I do." He looked over at the sleeping raven-haired boy on the floor. "Is there any way we can get him out too?"

"No, it would be impossible and unwise for us to try - leave it too the Order and Potters sheer luck. The others do want him kept here and will seek him out and find him the moment they realise his escape. They won't seek you out when you go missing because you are not a major concern or threat." He looked at the blonde for a moment, and then added "Or at least, they don't believe you to be one."

"If I have to fight, it will be against them." Draco confirmed, "And I will fight with everything I have – I don't want to live in a world ruled by Voldermort. I don't believe I can anyway."

"You will have to go into hiding. Both sides will be against you, take care and trust no-one."

"Of course."

The two surveyed each other for a moment, before Severus sighed and nodded. "Good luck, Draco."

"Thank you, Severus. Thank you; for everything."

The potions master nodded once, then turned on his heel and left.

.

Harry considered what he had overheard, but there wasn't much to think over. Draco would escape. Harry would rot. Lucky Draco. Poor Harry. He sighed.

"Don't pretend you didn't hear that, Potter."

Harry sat up, a red tinge around his battered cheeks. "Sorry." he muttered. "Good for you, then."

Draco looked through the potions and chose the relevant healing ones which would not interfere with the each other. He handed them to Harry wordlessly, other than "Half the bottle. One mouthful. All of it. Six sips with two secconds between each."

Afterwards they sat in silence for a while, and Draco would have happily kept that way, but Harry seemed to have other ideas. He had craved human company, and his curiosity was eating at his heart.

"Why didn't you do it?" He asked, referring to the uncast cruciatous curse.

Draco glared up at him, and for a moment thought not too even bother answering. But then he decided he might as well. It would break the boredom, and if his side won and, somehow, he managed to escape (this was Potter, after all), he might be able to give some kind of testimony to lessen Draco's thus impending sentence in Azkaban. So Draco gathered his thoughts and tried to explain.

"I never chose anything. My opinions, my friends, my future wife, my... everything; was chosen before I was even born. And I had to stick by it no matter what. Some of the stuff I agree with. Blaise is a good friend; I don't think we should live underneath or in fear of muggle's; every mudblood I've met has annoyed the hell out of me. But I don't want to be a Death Eater. When I was a kid it seemed like great fun, my dad used to be one and he could do almost whatever he wanted, people had a lot of respect for him. Abarax, my grandad, had been an early Death Eater too, so it mde sense for me too carry on the tradition and be one as well."

He frowned deeper then, immersing himself in memories. "I started to question things, I suppose, in the summer before fourth year when we were at the Quiditch World Cup. I realised that, as much as I wanted to be like my father, I didn't want to join what they were doing. I stood out. Then I saw you three, in line of where they were marching."

He broke off and looked at Harry irritably. "How could you be that stupid? I hated the Granger girl, but I also realised that I didn't want my father and the others to catch her. So when I saw you three idiots, I had too tell you to get away. And you just wanted to fight; she escaped by whisp thanks to me."

Harry thought back, and remembered. They had been trying to get away from the crowd and were at the outskirts of the woods. Ron had fallen over and Malfoy had sneered at it, leaning against a tree looking utterly relaxed, viewing but away from the chaos. They exchanged a few heated words...

"_Hadn't you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldnt want her spotted , would you?"_

"_What's that supposed to mean?"_

"_Granger, they're after _Muggle's – _d'you want to be showing off your knickers in mid-air? Because if you do then hang around... they're moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh."_

They continued to talk, the rest was kind of irrelevant. He'd pointed out that they would recognise Hermione as a muggleborn (or mudblood, as he'd put it). But his last words had been "_Keep that big bushy head down, Granger,"_

.

Harry looked at him softly, in shock. He'd never thought about the scene like that, but it made sense. "Thank you." he murmed. Draco waved it away and continued where he left off.

"When we got back home my father was furious. He'd seen us talk and then you three hurrying away. I told him I was trying to hold you up, but he didn't believe me."

Draco broke off and shuddered. He paused a minute, as if editing what he would say in comparison to the memory.

"I hated you even more that year. But I overheard my father talking about how he was sure it was a Death Eater's work to get your name into the cup and hopefully you would die competing. I could do nothing to help, two days before the first task I tried hexing you to make you incapable of competing, I didn't care if you got hurt but, for some reason or another, I didn't want you dead. But there was a Death Eater standing right behind me, wasn't there?"

He winced at the memory as pink tinged his cheeks – Moody (or rather Crouch in diguise) had turned him into a ferret and thrown him up and down in the air. "So you got through, you won, met the Dark Lord and _somehow _escaped alive.

"During fith year things started getting more intense. When I was at home father constantly talked about the Dark Lord, drilled me about hating muggles, hating mudblood's, hating you. How our ideal world should be, with muggles as slaves to us and mudbloods sub-serviant. He taught me dark magic, hundreds of hexes, curses, the lot.

"I remember him talking about me meeting the Dark Lord, and how I was going to become a Death Eater and make him proud. There was a plot he was part of that involved getting into the Department of Mysteries, and capturing you there.

"And then you were caught in Umbridges fireplace. I knew this was to do with the plot, and when Umbridge brought Grangers story about a weapon I tried to persuade the hag to let me come with you. But she didn't and I had to stay with in the classroom. The others escaped, but at the Department, so did you. Alive again."

He closed his eyes, and shuddered once again. "My father was punished. The Dark Lord was still on the rise, but now the world knew about it. I saw him in the flesh for the first time that summer, and had to kiss the hem of his robes and give my alleigance. He branded me with the Dark Mark; I asked for it myself. But I knew if I didn't my parents would... that I..." He refused to finish the sentance, and left it hanging.

"I was given my task. Kill Dumbldore. Not even he had accomplished the feat, it was too punish my parents again, too watch me try, fail and die in the process. I didn't want to kill him. Or anyone, for that matter. But I could not refuse – the consequences if I did, or if I failed...

"My father told me of the Vanishing Cabinet. He said he would check at Borgin and Burke's that I had secured it, and if not he would himself. He told me the other one was at Hogwarts in the Room of Hidden Things, he expected within a few months to send a message and receive a fast reply the same day– it was his way of checking I was working on it – not only did I have to mend the cabinet but be there everyday if my father sent a note through it, so I could reply.

"I also got the cursed necklace and poisoned the drink, both presents intended for Dumbldore. I knew they were futile attempts before starting, but I had to make some effort, even if it was to keep up appearances. I knew if I managed to suceed my familys' honour would be fully restored, but... of course, I didn't want the old coot Dumbledore dead either anyway.

"I was constantly pestered by father asking what I had done, why hadn't I done more, why was the bumbling codger still unharmed. There was a seventh year, Mullciber, who was told to keep an eye on me, though he didnt know what my task was, he was constantly dogging my footsteps, checking up on me. And there was Snape, trying too help when I knew I had to do it on my own... and then there was _you! _Everytime I turned around you were watching me, suspecting me, trying to catch me out. You seemed to know exactly where I was, even knew where look for the Room of Hidden Things.

"I almost wanted some-one, not you but almost anyone else, to figure things out and to stop them; I became reckless but Snape was there, someone fiding out would have to be 'accidental' but he wouldnt allow that to happen. If I outright told somebody me and my family would... would be at the Dark Lord's mercy.

"On the top of the tower – I had succeeded, the Death Eaters could get into the school, Dumbldore was unarmed and I was able too kill him. But I couldn't. And then he threw me a lifeline. He would protect me and my family, we would be safe from the Dark Lord, I didn't have to become a murderer. Severus didn't know this, of course, so when he found us he killed Dumbldore and I had too run with them, and meet the Dark Lord's wrath." His eyes were closed and he suddenly looked incredibly vulnerable, hiding his face in his hands it was a few minutes before he could resurface and continue.

"I've been trying, at school, to do what I can for the students there – but not only can the Carrows not know but neither can the students unless their occlumency isn't up to scratch, which goes for most of them. They don't trust me anyway, to them I'm another Death Eater. I tried to help a couple of second years out of the dungeons in October but Filch caught me and alerted the Carrow's. All of us were punished far worse than what they'd originally been sentanced too that I swore not to do such a thing again.

"And then you turn up in my house and its so obviously you that I cant say its not but I don't want to tell the others imediately either. And Bellatrix got Granger and there was nothing I could do, just like Lovegood and the others I used to know who end up here. All I can do is stand and watch.

"And then, for a moment, I think you're going to get away like you always seem to. But you don't, and my family is on you like a pack of dogs. And then im supposed to do the same thing and the first time, when it hardly did anything or worked, was when I realised this whole thing was based around hate and anger, rather than its dwindling logic. And I have to summon up all the hate I can muster and torture you with my own anger, and it felt as if the curse was a two-way thing. Watching you writhe about..." He sighed deeply, lost for words.

"I'm just sick of everyone getting hurt because of me. I don't want to be a torturer. A murderer. I'm not some bloody psychopath like Bellatrix, and I never intended to be. I saw you on the floor today, beaten and helpless, and I just knew I couldn't keep doing this. It was the last straw. We've thrown hexes at each other for the best part of seven years, but the last seven months are beyond comparison. I hated you before but now I... I don't really care. I just don't want to torture anything that doesn't deserve it. I'm not some kind of psycopath, suprise to you."

In the dim light Harry noticed a pink tinge appear on Draco's face, he suddenly looked a little defensive and almost haughty. "I don't think your a psycopath." He replied, mildly.

Harry thought over what the newer prisoner had said, and decided to begin at the beginning "You say you had to stick by your... predetermined...-"

" -Everything"

"Well yeah, but why? Before, why not just stand up to your dad every now and again? Tell him to stick it where the sun don't shine"

Draco wrung his hands unconsciously, debating wether to tell his darkest secret or not. He wasn't just weighing up his potential placement in Azkaban either...

"You can trust me." Draco threw him such an incredioulsly doubtful look it almost begged comedy. "Honestly, it's not like im going anywhere, and I give you my word I wont tell a soul if you don't want me too."

Draco sighed laboriously before deciding that if he had revealed this much of himself to Potter already he may as well tell this last, burning secret. So he explained about his sister, about unwittingly killing her and the proceeding fear and blackmail. Halfway through this Harry sheilded his eyes, but although Dracos breath grew shaky, he didn't break down again. His tears for this were shed long ago, and crying and breaking down again simply wouldnt help matters.

"By the time I started wising up to the probability that it would probably come down on his head rather than mine, there was the threat of Voldermort. You don't just up and leave, even if I could slip away, my parents would be in great danger. So I carried on. As me. You know the rest."

Harry bit his lip and rubbed his temples, thinking over what Draco had told him. Things both made more sense and became incredible confusing at the same time. "So you're saying... you never really had a choice, huh?"

"That is exactly what I'm saying."

Silence fell again, both lost in thought and memory.

.

And then Draco realised, finally, that if he didn't have a choice, he would have to make one.

He knew what he had to do.

.

*****Thanks, for the reviews – ShadowEntity my god yes! Dont know how that one slipped me by but dear Godric poor Harry too! I'm glad you like it, I've been trying not to make the characters to OOC in previous chapters so I'm glad it didn't come across that way.; this was harder to write in character but I gave it my best shot.**

**Oh, and that conversation just after the Quiditch World Cup did happen, I edited out the descriptions and left a load out but the dialouge that's written is all correct if you want to check. Was re-reading the book and stumbled across this – so shocked but glad I can use it :D**

**So, what's the choice Draco's made? Update as soon as I can, thanks for reading so far, and reviews are always great! :)**


	10. Choosing

"Odd that no-one's come so far," Harry mused, "You know why, Malfoy?"

"Draco."

"Huh?"

"My name is Draco. Not sure if you knew or not, but I actually have one of my own."

"Oh. Right yeah, course. Well call me Harry then."

"Nobody's came because they aren't sure what to make of the situation. I'm sure mother and father have been warding them off, saying they've already seen to us. Don't touch the bread."

Harry spat out the mouthful out instantly, "Why?" He felt panicked; was it poisoned? His eyes widened and he searched around for the jug

"Because this is my house so that is technically my food. Give it to me or I'll take it from you. Now."

"Bu- bu-" Harry spluttered at Malfoy – Draco's – outstretched hand.

"Stop looking like a kicked Niffler, I'll give half to you but I doubt you can do such _complex _fractions."

"Thats really not-"

"Give it hear or I'll take it from you by force; and that wont be hard given that your current state, Potter."

"Harry."

"Give it. Now."

Harry reluctantly tossed the bread across the chamber to Draco, utterly surprised when exactly half came lobbing back at his face. He froze for three seconds before trying to retrieve it – it had bounced off his forehead when his Seeker reactions had been ruled over by his look-like-an-arse reactions. He groaned as he tried to move, and Draco cursed.

"Bloody hell you really are useless, aren't you?" he stood up and grabbed the chunk of stale bread and poured some numbing potion on it before handing it to him.

"Thanks." Harry muttered, slightly red in the face.

"Whatever."

.

"House elves round here aren't exactly nice, huh?" One had just delivered a jug of liquid which Draco had (kind of) safely worked out to be spiked with a freezing potion. He was now rubbing his finger in an attempt to warm it up.

"There used to be one who was worth his weight in gold, if you must know. Gone now."

"Why?"

"I don't know – why should I? Probably dead, I never saw him after our second year."

Harry started "You mean _Dobby!_"

"So that was his name."

Harry burst out laughing, which felt very odd, but he suddenly remembered the mad bat ears and huge great ears; and that _Draco _had been known him. It was strangely funny.

The corner of Dracos lip tweaked, "Mad as a hatter he was, but even went against fathers orders to help if I needed anything."

"Dobby with the socks!"

At this Draco laughed "I once caught him rummaging through my sock draw, fawning over all of them. He nearly knocked himself out when he saw me!"

It was a very strange moment, such a trivial thing, but to them, right there and then, it was utterly hilarious.

.

Footsteps echoed down the stone stairs and Draco stood up, suddenly alert. He nudged Harry with his foot, who started awake and grew incredibly pale and drew his knees to his chest.

However it was Snape who swooped around the corner, and Draco let out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding.

"Severus."

"Draco. I need to check on Potters' health. The Dark Lord is returning to us in three days, the night after your departure." He unlocked the door and commanded Potter, who over the few days had been reduced to wearing only his pants, to stand up. He made a full assessment and frowned, allowing Potter too collapse back down and retreated to the lesser smelling corridor.

"Your wounds are much less severe than they should be. Draco you did a good job at tending to them, but has anything else occurred to heal the inflictions?"

Draco shook his head but Harry coughed self-consciously. "I... ah, I can do minor wandless magic to speed up the healing process." He held up the hand which had been stabbed when he tried to dissaperate. "I healed this, and helped the others a bit when I could concentrate enough." He said very quickly, not looking at the other two but giving the opposite wall a very thorough analysis.

Neither commented on this revelation, Snape merely nodded and wordlessly cast _Muffilato _on Harry, whose ears filled with an inexplainable buzzing sound.

"How is his mental state?" Snape asked Draco

"Very good compared to what it should be. Poor if these were normal circumstances but compared to anyone else's he's fairing incredibly well. Not that I would hold much faith in Potters' mental stability." The last sentence was merely a joke, but Snape nodded to the rest of it, looking relieved.

"How are you fairing?"

Draco scoffed "I have full mental capability, obviously."

Snape gave him a piercing look but did not expand on his suspicions of Dracos' recent breakdown. "Administer these to him." He handed Draco a number of labelled bottles with different healing and restoring potions in them

"This one -" He held up a vial of thick amber coloured liquid "is a Dream-Washer. Give it to him tonight and if the nightmares wake him up, encourage him too sleep again. It will help process what has happened. I'll leave you with one when you escape."

He handed the vial to his godson, who nodded wordlessly, plucking up the courage to ask the question he knew would destroy him.

"Severus?"

"What is troubling you?"

"When you come for me to administer the Invisibility Potion, will you also bring two separate doses of Polyjuice Potion?"

Incomprehension flickered across the Headmasters face, before realisation dawned. He groaned inwardly. "Draco -"

"- This is my choice, Severus. And if I get one choice in life, it will be this one. Are you really going to take that away from me?"

"You would be foolish not to have such doubts, child." He hissed.

"But you would be more the fool to turn me down." There was a pregnant pause. Draco opened his eyes and gazed pleadingly at his godfather. "Please, Severus?" He gave a hollow laugh, "If I have a soul, then this is the last thing I can do to redeem it. The Dark Lord is coming, and if Potter does not escape before then then, Chosen One or not, the war will be lost. And I doubt the Order has a foolproof plan to snatch him back, do they?"

Severus could override sentiment, but Draco knew that his logic would be the undoing of the potion masters' resolve.

"On your head be it."

.

*****Sorry it's taken so long to update! I hope you like this chapter – what do you think of Draco's choice? If you don't quite get it then hang on till the next chapter to understand. If you do get it – hang in there anyway! ;) Big thanks to everyone who's read, followed, favourited and especially reviewed this – even more would be incredible :D**

**Shadow Entity – thanks for your review and compliment, and your comment on my grammar of 'to' and 'too'. It's been taken on board, hope I've got it right this time! Thanks :) *****


	11. Dreams and Decisions

***Okay, sorry it's been so long since the last update (I thought I was meant to have _more_ free time in the holidays apparently not :L ) but here here it is!***

"You need to take this one."

"What is it?"

"A Dream Wash. It will make you fall asleep, but yours dreams will be much more vivid and symbolic, there might be memories – it'll drag up all the dirt of your subconscious. It's like the reverse of Dreamless Sleep, used to get the mind to process everything rapidly so you wont have a breakdown in the middle of a battle or something. You're in for a hell of a night."

"Oh joy."

Draco snorted. "Bottoms up, P- Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes, grimaced, and gulped the potion down. _If it helps win the war. _He was asleep in moments.

.

"_Cedric... Cedric wake up, please, wake up!... Sirius? Sirius where are you? I'm sorry, I didn't mean it! She made me! *gasp* You? What did you do with Sirius? No – no, I didn't! No, I won't! He wouldn't! Aargh!"_

He jolted awake, gasping, the image of Bellatrix crossed with Sirius still burnt across the back of his eyelids. Someone was holding him, murmuring _"_It's just a dream, it isn't real. You're safe, you're okay. Go back to sleep." He let the lies wash over him, lulling him into a false sense of calm as the potion dragged him back to his dreams...

And so the pattern continued until he was shouting and screaming himself hoarse as the potion took full effect. Draco wanted nothing better than to wake him up, but to do so would ruin the point of the potion.

He simply held him in his arms and when Harry woke he told him they were only dreams, wiped the sweat off his forehead with the corner of his robe.

It brought back a weird sense of De-Ja-Vu which he traced down till he could remember a time when he was seven and suffered terrible nightmares for weeks after stumbling in on his fathers Death-Eater-Reunion party.

His mother had comforted him back then herself, stroking his hair, telling him he was okay and the nightmares weren't real; whether or not they were. She had held him like this and sung softly, because that had been the only thing which made him feel safe.

So when Harry woke up again shouting and begging, Draco slipped into verse, and in this surreal state he rocked gently back and forth, reciting the old lullaby

_You spotted snakes with double tongue,_

_Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;_

_Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong,_

_This boy's as safe as he could be_

_Weaving spiders, come not here;_

_Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence!_

_Beetles black, approach not near;_

_Worm nor snail, do no offence._

_Philomel, with melody,_

_Sing in this sweet lullaby,_

_Lulla-lulla-lullaby_

_Never harm, nor spell nor charm,_

_Cometh this dearest child nigh._

Something seemed to glow and tingle around them and though Harry slept for longer, no old hidden spell could protect him from the crashing walls of his own mind. When he awoke again, sobbing and crying, Draco sang, for he didn't know what else to do.

_A crown of stars adorns your brow_

_Tree's hold you safe in their willow boughs_

_Angels feathers blanket you_

_I hold you in my arms_

_Strong and True_

And Harry was asleep again, quiet and peaceful for a while longer before the inevitable nightmares. Draco was still there when he awoke, moping his brow and tears, singing softly

_Wash away your fear_

_No demons are coming near_

_They will turn there tales and flee_

_They cant hurt you or me_

_I have you safe, I have you close_

_Do not fear, you're not alone_

_You're wrapped up warm_

_You're wrapped up safe_

_Angels hold you _

_In their embrace._

_So sleep softly_

_Sleep deep_

_Dreams cant haunt you_

_When your at peace._

No daylight warned them of morning, but as the unseen sun dawned, the nightmares wore off, Harry woke less, and finally both boys fell to a more restful sleep.

.

"Uh, Draco?" He didn't respond, so Harry gently pulled himself from the blonde's grasp.

He felt, not well rested, but somehow much lighter. It was like after talking to someone about something you've been dying to say, or crying yourself out and then realising that that was all that you had really needed to do.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes, trying not to think about last night. He could hardly remember the dreams, they were some kind of foggy blur and he wasn't particularly keen on re-living them as it was.

He stretched carefully, trying not to break his healing skin and wincing at the scabs and blisters. He had healed, however, to a much greater extent than he had previously thought possible.

This thought stirred another, a memory. He frowned and chased it down till he pulled up Draco's voice, singing old lullabies and hidden charms in soft, tenor tones. A wave of gratitude washed over him and he wondered how he could ever repay such comfort the songs had brought him.

.

They had both been awake for an hour when food was passed through the bars. They shared it in companionable silence, until Draco knew he had to face up to the conversation.

"Harry."

"Yes?"

"The escape is planed for tonight."

Harry nodded sadly "I'll miss you. If – if you see Ron and Hermione... Ginny, Lupin... tell them, from me that-" His voice caught in his throat "That I love them, and... and I wish them the best of luck. Don't give up, the main thing is to destroy the Horcruxes and..." He raked a hand through his hair, torn between the advise to kill Voldermort or run and hide somewhere they could be safe.

"Why don't you tell them that yourself?"

"Because I'll be trapped here, won't..." He caught Draco's gaze "Won't I?"

The aristocrat sighed. "No, Harry – hear me out." He put a hand up to stop his objection "To win this war, you need to kill the Dark Lord. That's not something I can do. It's you, Harry. You have to do it. Not me, not Ron or Hermione. You. And you have to fight him with all the strength and might you have. He's coming here tomorrow, and you shouldn't be here when that happens. When Severus comes down this evening with the Invisibility Potion, he'll also be carrying two vials of Polyjuice Potion-"

"No! Draco, you cant!"

"I will take the form of you and you will take mine and my place when the escape is staged. Severus will then get you to some place safe-"

"-There's no way-"

"- Where you will be handed over to the Order to recover, prepare and eventually fight."

They stared at each other in defiance.

"No. You're not giving up your chance of escape, your life, for me. I will not comply."

"Harry, please! If you don't go you'll be giving up everyone's chance of hope. I've done more wrongs in life than you could know of, and if there is one thing that can begin to repair the damage I've done then it's this. Let me salvage whatever soul I have left. And when people ask about how the Malfoy legacy ended, don't let them say that we collapsed like cowards and villains in the darkness. Tell them it was how the last one to bear the Malfoy name helped Harry Potter, Saviour of the Wizarding World and Destroyer of Lord Voldermort bring the most terrible villain down. I always said I would sacrifice myself for one thing and one thing only. The Malfoy name and legacy. Now I'm doing that and saving the fucking world-" He broke off into an odd chuckle "-so don't take it from me. Escape. Kill the mother-fucker who's ruined my world. And Emblazon the Malfoy name with the honour and victory it deserves. Please."

Harry looked at him for a long while, and finally nodded slowly. "You've been working yourself up for that, haven't you?"

Draco stared at him in a mix between shock, annoyance and humour. He let out a surprised laugh, and then laughed again properly, shaking his head that Potter really would put such an anti-climax to his awe-inspiring speech. Because it really had been that good. Natural that Harry wouldn't get it. At least he'd agreed.

They sat in their own thoughts for a while until Harry cursed, smacking his forehead.

"What?"

"Bellatrix disarmed you, didn't she?"

"Obviously, why?" Harry looked grim. "Because I'm going to need to get that wand back."

.

***Aargh! Haha, I suddenly realised that if Harry was going to be the owner of the Elder wand, he'd have to get Draco's wand. Which Bellatrix overpowered :O**

**The first lullaby is a slight adaption from Shakespear's Fairy Lullaby, (cause Harry couldn't be called a Fairy Queen :L ), and the second and third are my own.**

**Shadow Entity – thanks for you're review; you were right D: Hope you like this chapter, sorry once again how long it's taken to update!**

**Everyone else- the more reviews I get the faster I update – so please please review (else Fenrir Greyback will hunt you down(... uhm? i'll ask him about it ;)) **


	12. Escape

*** **Hi everyone! *cowers* I am **_**so so sooooo **_**sorry about not updating in so long. To anyone who knows what its like to start A levels as a lazy bugger (aka me) might hopefully be able to understand. To those who have not yet experienced the horror – I warn you – it's not easy D:**

_**Shadow Entity**_** – Yeah, Greyback was too insane, Lupin was too moral... damn these werewolves! Glad you liked the chapter, though I think dear Draco might faint if he heard the suggestion of Gryffindor tendancies – the horror! Thanks once again for the review :D**

_**ShadowFireHime-Sama**_** – thanks for pointing that out – I've decided that Harry's decided he needs a wand for practicality, so needs to win it from his opponent, but also wants Draco's because, sentimental fool, cant bare to think of it in Bellatrix's hands. Thank you so much for reviewing pointing that out though – very helpful! :D**

**Anyway, this is a slightly shorter chapter, sorry again bout that, but hopefully now I've got back into the swing some more updates will be coming soon. (Hint – the more reviews, the faster I update) Hope you like this!*****

Steps echoed down the stone stairway as Snape appeared into view. He unlocked the door and pulled from his cloak two vials of polyjuice potion. "Hairs." He said, passing one to each of them. They each tugged a few out and put them in. Harry's turned a dirty gold, more dark bronze than before the war started. Draco's was a murky silver, it seemed to change whichever way you looked at it between shades of dark grey, silver, and subtle sheens of blue and green, like on a pigeons neck.

They swapped vials and knocked them back in one gulp. Draco's was a harsh taste, with a burn like he'd drank firewhiskey, but Harry couldn't deny he liked the taste.

Snape handed Harry the second vial of invisibilty potion, before turning to Draco. His face was blank, unyeilding of emotion, as he handed him _his_ second vial. "To ease the pain," he murmured. Draco looked at him with a hint of desperation in his eyes. "No, you will not sleep. Do not ask." Draco nodded, wordlessly. There was a beat, and suddenly Snape pulled his godson into a last embrace.

Draco did his best not to crumble "If he asks for, y'know, my end, will you... can you be the one? End it, Sev? Please? I trust you."

Severus closed his eyes, this was a conversation with all to similar a message he'd gone through before. "Yes," He replied, quietly, "Be strong, Draco, remember what I taught you."

Draco nodded, and, they stepped back. He wiped at one eye with the corner of his robe and nodded to Harry. "Good luck, Potter."

Harry nodded, his voice a little stuck in his throat. "Yeah, good luck too, Draco."

"We must leave. Time is of the essence." Snape turned on his heel and left, Harry behind him. As the door clanged shut, it felt somewhat more terrible than when Bellatrix was on the other side, but somewhat better, too.

.

"Snape?" Harry whispered

"What, Potter?" His voice was barely more than a breath

"I need the wand Bellatrix stole off Draco. Trust me, if we're going to win this war I need it." The words had barely left his mouth before the devil herself walked into the corridor they were walking down. Harry froze, his muscles seizing up for a moment in unadulterated fear, before a hard cold cold shield seemed to snap over his mind. He was invisible, and this woman... there are no words for the hatred she inspired there and then.

As she paused on seeing Snape, her robe flitted back, exposing a glint of silver... they were her most prized knives, Harry was well enough acquainted to them. And a plan formed in his mind before he'd even truly thought it.

.

Bellatrix walked out from the Black quarters, and noticed Severus Snape pacing down the corridor. She had always hated the filthy half-blood for being so close to her Dark Lord and yet having such dirty blood. He seemed tense, paler than normal. Knowing when Snape was in some kind of trouble was half impossible due to his perfected stony exterior, and she took pride in the times she could tell it.

"What's the hurry, Snape?" she asked, dark eyes flashing up, dangerously. "Anywhere to be? I was just thinking of paying our _special guests _a surprise visit, in preparation for his return... care to join? Don't you love it when little Draco begs n-" A hand, invisible, suddenly grabbed her throat, throwing her to the wall, she couldn't breathe, shocked, her hands raised to find the invisible assailant, and as she did so, a face flashed into view. Mutated by her own hand and with the shine of madness in his dark green eyes, a terrible grin twisted on Harry Potter's face as her own knives pierced her heart. Three fatal wounds, five horrifying seconds, and she was slumped, dead, on the ground.

Harry was breathing heavily, he snatched her and Draco's wand from inside her robe and stood up, before turning to Snape. "Lets go."

The potions professor grimaced at the body – this was one of the Dark Lords most finest, and Draco would be blamed for the death as he let Potter escape. Removing the knives and clearing the wounds, he used a version of the levicorpus charm to have her body float along the ceiling. "Hurry up, and use a silencing charm on your boots, for Salazars' snake." He hissed at the younger man.

There was little time to loose, and there was still the problem of Bellatrix's body. He summoned a bottle of firewhiskey and used a complex charm to drain some forcibly down her throat and the rest into her bloodstream – it was an emergency measure, used by some to get a potion into an unconscious patient.

The only exit was through the main gates, which was usually guarded, the rest of the perimeter was warded. All known existing charms, including those of glamour and invisibility, would be detected by the gates and a warning sent to the guards. He had no idea how to smuggle her out.

Ah, wait, yes. All _known _charms. In the eyes of the rest of the world, this did not exist. He'd made it up in sixth year, and forgotten about it until now... "M_obilicorpus Puppatether" _he whispered. Her body immediately came upright and she stood behind Severus, mimicking his exact stance, as he walked, she walked – mobility of limbs, as if tethered to her puppeteer.

With a nod to Stan Shunpike, the imperio'd fool of tonight's guard, he, Potter and Bellatrix Lestrange crossed the threshold to freedom.

They paced into the forest, just as Harry – disguised as Draco – came into sight. A minute later and he was himself again. Snape released Bellatrix's body, then turned around and grasped Harry's forearm tightly, making him flinch a little. "I'll side-along aparate you to where you need to be. Prepare yourself, Potter."

Harry took a deep breath as the familiar squeezing, spinning sensation overtook him, until he slumped on the cold ground, worn of energy. "There is a cabin but fifty metres in front of you. A member of the Order will pick you up shortly. Stay on your guard, the password is _Eosphorus. _Take these – they are memories of vital importance, a battle will no doubt commence soon and you must see them before that."

Harry nodded, trying to right himself, "Cabin close by. Order coming. Password's Eosphorus. Watch memories before battle. Got it."

"And Potter?"

"Yeah?"

"You have been given a chance beyond any you could hope for, at the expense of my godson. Hold nothing back. You. Must. Win."

Harry looked at him. There was a fixed determination in his eyes, his jaw was set. The man had killed Dumbledore but saved him, what the hell was going on he didn't know. But Snape, for whatever intents and purposes, wanted Voldermort gone as much as he. Harry nodded. "I will. I promise." He whispered.

Snape pierced him with a look that sunk through his eyes and found the truth. With one sharp nod, he turned on his heel and, with a crack, was gone.

.

Snape apparated back to where he had left the bitches body, before casting a charm to alleviate himself of scent. Grasping her, he apparated onto the path he knew the werewolves would cross to return to the Manor. They would still be bloodlusting and, he thought, vehemently, as he bashed her head upon a rock as if she might have tripped, with the scent of blood, the wolves would hopefully rip her up before realising who it was. She stank of firewhiskey, which effectively masked her own scent and made it look as if she had drunk herself blunt. They wouldn't pick up his scent. Clearing any trace of himself away, Severus Snape returned to Hogwarts to wash the blood of Bellatrix Lestrange from his hands.

.

Harry stood up fully, shivering for his lack of clothing against the cold bite of night air. It must be about an hour before dawn, he guessed, adept at such prediction due to the number of nights the Dursley's had kicked him out as a kid.

His night-time eyesight had drastically improved since the darkness of the dungeons in the Manor, he could pick out each leaf on the tree's, but now was not the time for counting leaves... he turned to the 'cabin' - a run-down shack with one broken window and the door already half of its hinges.

Something caught his eye.

It was slithering, almost soundlessly, through the undergrowth. Harry whipped around to face it, as the giant snake rose up "Halt." He hissed, in parstletongue. The snake eyed him, it's tongue flickering out, but it had, momentarily, paused. "Nagini?"Harry asked, cautiously. "Ssnake of Voldermort."

"Yess, Potter. I have been ssearching for you."

"Have you called your masster?"

Nagini eyed him, inquisitively. "He would imprisson you, would he not?" she hissed

"Yess."

"You are the boy who, sseven sspingss ago, releassed me from my own cage, are you not? The boy who vanished the glasss?"

Harry studied the snake closely. She had the same markings around her eyes and nose that, if he wasn't very much mistaken, he had helped escape, on Dudley's birthday, seven years to the day ago. "Yess. You were wisshing for Brazzil."

"Then, Potter, I pay my debtss, I grant you esscape, asss you did me. Goodbye, enemy of my masster."

Nagini dropped back to the ground, and began slithering away.

Snape's last words echoed in Harry's mind.

_Hold nothing back._

He raised his wand, and with a flash of light, green as his eyes, cried "Avada Kedavra."

.

*****Yeah... Harry's finally toughened up a bit and not so sentimental as before. What do you think? Like, dislike, advice, opinion? Anything? Anyone? Please! Thanks to people who have reviewed so far, and those who haven't – Trevor (Neville's Toad) knows where you live!*****


	13. Battle

*** **Okay! This is the final chapter, but there will be an epilogue and maybe a slash sequel about the two recovering together, looking after each other and growing slowly but surely closer. Huge thanks to ****ShadowFireHime-Sama**** for reviewing and PMing me with suggestions etc. - you are seriously awesome! You other people, as you aren't reviewing, maybe we could do a swap? Like – you review my work, I'll review one of yours? Feedback helps A LOT, whatever it is, so... you know the score ;D Hope you like this chapter (I'll admit – I struggled). Please tell me what you think (Pretty please)*****

As the jet of green light hit the snake, Harry suddenly felt as if he had been ripped into, as if a similar curse had struck him self, his knees buckled and he gasped for a moment in pain, hearing the echo of another scream ringing in his ears.

It died down just as something large and silver bounded onto the forest floor – it was a lynx patronus. The animal's gaze swept the area three times, looked at him, and vanished. A second later there was the loud crack of somebody apparating.

"Kingsley!"

Harry was greeted with the end of a wand and flinched, mentally thanking the Dream-Washer for him not turning into a mumbling, frightened wreck. "The password?" Kingsley asked.

"Eosphorus." With a quick thought "What were Dumbledore's last words to you?"

"Trust Harry. He is our best hope." Harry nodded, a slightly bitter feeling rising in his mouth, but now was not the time to ask why hadn't been rescued, why it had to be Draco who saved him, perhaps at the cost of his own life. "Hold on to this." Kingsley said, holding something out to him. It was an olive branch – a portkey – Kingsley tapped it, whispering "Portus." It glowed blue, Harry grabbed it tightly, and with a "Three, two, one." They spun from the forest.

Harry stumbled as his feet touched the floor, but strong arms caught him. He froze on the spot, going into high alert as phantom fears and pains rushed back. He didn't dare to move, feeling as if he was going to shut down, noises were muffled, his vision tunnelled...

No. He was not doing this. He was not going to collapse. He jerked out of the arms that had embraced him and cast a gaze around the room. Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Tonks, Bill and Arthur Weasley stared at him with a mixture of relief and horror.

Hermione broke the silence "Oh Harry!" She exclaimed, she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed, "You're back, thank god you're back!" Harry staggered under the weight, he was barely able to hold himself up, when Kingsley pulled her back and muttered in her ear that he was in a fragile enough state and needed immediate medical attention. Everyone had crowded around and was talking at once, but the Auror led him from the room to a smaller one off the side and closed the door firmly behind him. Fleur was standing at the window and turned around immediately, "Harry," she whispered, aghast, "Sit down on the bed."

"Fleur is a Healer, Harry," Kingsley told him, "We need to patch you up as best we can."

"Right." He muttered. She cast a quick diagnostic charm and paled at the long list, then looked at him bewildered. It stated the injuries gained in the past month, but only half seemed to be there. Dislocated shoulders, stab wounds, five broken ribs, torn cartilage, burns along the gastric and intestinal tract... he shouldn't be alive, let alone walking...

"Snape gave me a number of potions, Draco bandaged me up and washed my wounds, and I used a little wandless magic to speed up the recovery process." She nodded and set to work with the simplest wounds as Kingsley filled him in and questioned him on recent events.

"Where are we?"

"Shell Cottage – Bill and Fleurs place."

"What's been going on?"

"Ron and Hermione destroyed the locket the moment they got back, in the hope of somehow delaying Voldermort which, I assume, happened."

Harry remembered flying across the water before a ripping pain, and plunging into their icy depths. He nodded, thankful for Hermione quick thinking.

"Dobby?"

"He splinched badly, and is without a leg. Alive though, one may be able to be regrown."

Harry winced and nodded, "The other Hor- the rest of the quest? Can I see Ron and Hermione?" He longed to talk them again and make sure they were okay, know what had happened about the other Horcrux's, and just be able to see his friends again.

"I know this is hard but my time is limited and we must know what the state of affairs is."

Harry gritted his teeth. "Once I talk to Ron and Hermione, I'll let you know. Five minutes – I need to know what's going on."

Kingsley frowned at him. "Two." He relented, "But be quick."

He exited and Ron and Hermione rushed in, but thankfully didn't come to close into contact. "Harry! Oh my god, I'm so sorry, we tried to find you, we really did but-"

"Harry you alright? Mate, we've been going out of our minds trying to get you back, can you still-"

"Ron! Hermione!" His voice was pretty hoarse but they quietened immediately. "It's great to see you guys, it really is, but where are we with the Horcrux's?"

The two glanced at each other, Hermione answered. "I put the sword through the locket, we managed to break into Gringrott's and get Helga Hufflepuff's goblet, but Griphook took off with the sword and so we haven't been able to destroy it yet..."

"So we've got to find something of Ravenclaw's, destroy that and this cup, and work out what the last horcrux is." A wave of nausea swept through him, he ground his teeth together. There was a knock on the door and Fleur re-entered. "Change of plan. Kingsley's staying here and I need to address your wounds. There is a bath running for you, get cleaned up and matters can be put on held for the moment. No-one's going anywhere." Her voice shook a little, "We think someone may have found us, the border's guarded, but we're safe for now."

A hot bath was exactly what Harry needed, he drew the curtain as Ron had to sit the other side in the bathroom in case he passed out and went underwater or something. The heat edged into his bones, wonderfully-

_Finally, he had Potter, he could see the scrawny boy standing before him, the defiant look shone from his eyes as it had in the Graveyard almost three years ago. "Harry Potter. The boy who-" The form of Harry Potter suddenly started changing, bubbling, until, before him, stood Draco Malfoy. "WHAT! WHERE IS POTTER?" He shrieked, fury gripped him. He heard the older Malfoy's gasp and Narcissa utter a soft "no!"_

"_Gone." The traitor replied. He had duped the others, somehow, they would pay later._

"_GONE? GONE! CRUCIO! CRUCIO! CRUCIO!" The Elder Wand slashed through the air and red light erupted through the room, the imposter screamed and writhed, the bones in his arm splintered..._

"HARRY!" A hand slapped his face and he snapped back into reality "What-"

He waved Ron away, tears slid down his face "Ron – not now – leave – please" Ron, by some small mercy, backed out of the room.

_Please, Draco, stay alive._

_._

The sun was beginning to rise as he sat at the table with a bowl of soup and Kingsley, but he couldn't touch the food. He felt so guilty, here they were doing _nothing _as Draco was probably burning in some kind of hell with Voldermort torturing him and... he shuddered, trying to force the images out of his mind.

"How did you know how to find me?" He asked Kingsley

"Theodore Nott has become an ally, able to pass messages along between Snape and us. We are not sure of Snape's allegiance, and don't trust him, but the matter seems more complex than we first – or ever – presumed. We voted unanimously that this risk was worth it." Kingsley finished his own meal before standing up and shaking Harry's hand. "Please excuse me, I must be off. And eat that up," the man smiled gravely at him "You're going to need your strength."

Fifteen minutes later, Ron and Hermione appeared downstairs together, slightly ruffled and flustered. Harry raised an eyebrow but said nothing about this more recent turn of events.

"Morning" They greeted.

Harry paused a minute "Uh, yeah, morning." It felt odd to exchange such small talk – especially a greeting like _'Morning'_ after he hadn't seen the sun for... "How long was it?" The phrase needed no more elaborate explanation

"Almost a month, mate."

"Twenty six days." The two spoke at once. Hermione began again "3 weeks and 5 days, including yesterday." She answered, sounding a little mortified at her own words. She bit a trembling lip, but could think of nothing more to say. "I'll – I'll go and make tea, shall I?" She and Ron shared another meaningful glance and Ron not-so-subtly nodded, but Harry was lost as to the silent conversation they seemed to be sharing.

"Are you... what happ-..." Ron ran a hand through his head, his face creased in anxiety "What do you want to do? About the Horcrux's?"

"We need a way to destroy the Horcrux's and work out what the other two are. I'd say one would be something valuable of Rowena Ravenclaw's, as we've had Slytherin and Hufflepuff. I thought the next one could be something of Godric's although..." Something suddenly clicked into place. That ripping sensation, just after he killed Nagini, was identical to the time he guessed was when Ron and Hermione destroyed the other Horcrux. That could only mean "I think I know what the last one was." He breathed a sigh of relief "Nagini, his snake, I killed her just before we came here – oh, thanks, Hermione." He smiled at her and took the warm mug into his hands.

He swallowed, knowing that he couldn't 'check' the liquid like he would in the dungeons without hurting her feelings. He scolded himself, this was Hermione, his best friend, of course she hadn't poisoned his drink. He ground his teeth and forced himself to take a large sip – and froze.

It was contaminated.

The mug fell out of his hands and he spat the 'tea' out, jumping up, shaking, fists clenching, head spinning...

"Harry!" He forced himself to focus on Hermione, who had just saved his tea from spilling and now stood square opposite him. She held his gaze for a moment, he could feel her will him to calm down. "Breathe." He let out a large breath, and gulped in another lungful at an exaggerated speed. "Now what's the matter?" Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, feeling like a fool but unable to calm his heart. "The tea," He croaked out, "I'm sorry. I thought... I thought there was something in there."

Hermione longed to reach out to him, but had been cautioned not to and promised upon her refrain. "Look at me." Harry opened his eyes. "Nothing is wrong with your tea, okay?" He nodded, a shamed look in his eyes. "I know you're scared, that's natural, but if you drink it you'll feel better. Understand?"

"Yeah," He said, hoarsely, "Thanks, Hermione. Sorry."

"It's okay. Here's your tea. Drink it down and you'll be fine. Trust me."

He tried not to feel humiliated by how much coaxing and counselling he needed just to drink a mug of tea. Suddenly, Moody's hip-flask seemed like a good idea.

He drank it right to the dregs, which looked a little odd. His vision went blurry and his head span, as he suddenly felt as if he were made of lead. It struck him. He hadn't been wrong. He looked up to Hermione's tear-stained face and Ron's paler one and knew he had been tricked. "Harry, I'm so sorry." She said, as she lowered him down to the ground and consciousness faded away to dark still depths.

.*.*.*.

Voices faded in and out, lights got brighter and dimmer, playing out patterns on the back of his eyelids. He felt somebody holding his hand, stroking the back of it with their thumb. Then there was a smell of stew, but he didn't want to eat. There were voices again, words wandered past, but he couldn't recollect or make sense of them.

They started becoming clearer, he could start to make out more words, then strings of them together "Harry I... please come back... but it was for your own... and I'm sorry for... it was so long..." He tried to back away from the voice, but it was growing more insistent. "I know you can hear me... you need to wake up... should be feeling better... all patched up... scars... war..." They faded out again. Then he felt something cold trickling through his lips.

He sat bolt upright, spitting it our and snarling, he heard someone yelp as his magic cracked out uncontrolled.

Bright lights assaulted his eyes and he rubbed them, two firm hands placed themselves on the back of his shoulders to stop him slumping back into a coma. He took a few shaky breaths and looked around. He was in the room where Fleur had tended to him when he first arrived, Hermione was picking herself up off the floor and Arthur was propping him up. Harry moved away from the supporting hands, "What happened?" He asked, his throat a little sore. Arthur handed him a glass of water, and Hermione answered.

"We had to put you into a coma to treat your wounds, but they said if we told you about it you might try to fight it off -"

"-Too right I would-"

"So I had to put some in your tea. I'm sorry, Harry" She said, miserably, "It was the only way."

He scowled at her.

.

Over the next two days, Harry built up his strength and practised with the new wand. Both seemed to work well for him, but he preferred to use Draco's. It felt like a mark of respect, like if the wand wasn't put to use then Draco might just die out as the wands power did. He knew he was being irrational, and Bellatrix's would be better for the kind of magic he would need to use but... it was a gut instinct.

Griphook having stolen the sword he, Ron and Hermione were still trying to work out how to destroy the other Horcrux's, and where they might be. He was outside with the two of them when suddenly the his sights, scents, feelings were extinguished: pain cleaved through Hary's head like a sword stroke. ***_page 442 – 445. Basically Harry sees Voldermort being told about Ron and Hermione breaking into Gringott's and figures out they may be after the Horcrux's. Accidentally tells Harry through his thoughts that the 'last' one is at Hogwarts.***_

"Harry?" He opened his eyes to see the swimming vision of his friends above him, looking down with concerned faces. "What happened?"

"He knows we're after the Horcrux's, and the next one's at Hogwarts. We need to move now." There was little time for anything else. Afraid of being caught up, they left a note explaining that everyone should prepare for battle. If the signal was given, they were needed at Hogwarts, and as many fighters as possible. If the signal was given, then this may very well be the end.

They apparated to Hogsmeade ***_Battle scene as in the book, obviously a few minor details are missed – Neville doesn't kill the snake, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle don't chase them in the Room of Requirement and in the forest Narcissa asks Harry whether he would save Draco.***_

People were still cheering, congratulating him, shaking his hand, holding him up, crying from joy – and pain – but they weren't letting him go. No-one thought maybe he needed to grieve. Maybe he didn't want to celebrate on a battlefield. Maybe he _hadn't_ finished saving everyone – and the person who was starting to mean the most to him was still trapped.

Imprisoned.

Or... no.

He couldn't be gone. That was impossible. There was no way one person could loose so much after defeating the greatest evil in the world.

But Death listened to no quarrel of humanity. No one could run from his embrace, as today had shown more than in any history.

Luna noticed his distress and distracted the crowd, allowing him to throw on the invisibility cape and search for Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy. In a derelict corner of the hall they were slumped, Lucius looked dead, but he could see small movements from Narcissa, they must have been hit in the second round of battle.

He crossed over to them and dropped to his knees. "Narcissa!" He shook her lightly, "Narcissa!" Her eyes peeped open, she seemed close to death. "Where is Draco?"

Her voice was quiet and rasping, he had to strain to hear, "The snake... in the – Iron Bedroom... will lead... parseltongue..." Her eyes fluttered shut, Harry was about to leave when suddenly she grabbed his wrist. His eyes flashed to her. "Take care... take care of our boy... when we're gone."

"I will. I promise."

As Narcissa Malfoy faded to Death, there was the shadow of a final smile upon her lips.

.

Harry apparated into Malfoy Manor, the wards broken and the house deserted, it was a haunting place. Paying no attention to his fears and brushing away flashbacks, he made his way as systematically as he could through the vast house. On the third floor, he finally came into what must have been the Iron Bedroom – and it was ghastly.

Harry put a hand to his mouth to hold a sob and tried not to throw up – bloodstains spattered the wall and bedspread, the bed was made of cast iron, nailed to the ground, with chains and cuffs to hold a victim down. There was an array of whips, chains and torture weapons lining a wall, an iron cabinet pushed against the other wall.

Trying his best not to truly see any of it, Harry searched for the 'snake' that had been mentioned - but to no avail. Growing desperate, he scoured the room, finally realising that one of the the knobs of the bed was the head of a snake. He concentrated on it. Narcissa said something about it leading him, and parsletongue "_Where is Draco?" _He hissed, _"Where is the hidden dungeon you guard?"_

The steel snake shivered, before unravelling from the bed and began to slither back to the door Harry had entered the room. But instead of going through it, the snake curled into a ring on the ground, biting the end of it's tail, before growing still.

Bewildered, Harry stared at the snake in confusion, before suddenly realising that it had become a handle to pull open a trapdoor. Of course, this way, Voldermort believed it was only him who would be able to enter... Harry didn't pursue the thought much longer, as he yanked up the door and descended the steps, into the darkness...

He cast a ball of light, and was hit by a terrible smell. It was the smell of urine and faeces, of blood, of decay and... something else. He nearly retched, but carried on going, hurrying, afraid of what he might find.

This could be it.

Harry tried to steel himself for the possibility Draco would be dead, but he couldn't.

He couldn't bear the thought.

"Draco?" He called out, his voice echoing along the passageway, "Draco!"

Silence.

He was running down the steps now, calling and shouting "Draco! Draco!" But there was still no reply.

Finally he rounded the corner, and there, in the corner of the cell, a body was slumped.

.

*****Is he dead?! Is he alive!? Three reviews on this chapter or you'll never know! I've already written the epilogue, and its not gonna be posted until YOU – yes, you personally – review this piece to let me know a scrap of your thoughts. Good or bad, constructive, complimentary or critical.*****


	14. Epilogue

Harry fell too his knees beside the blonde, desperately searching for a pulse... at first, nothing, but then... _yes!_... there was the light flutter of it beneath his fingers, it was weak and rapid, but it was all the hope he needed. Scooping Draco up in his arms, Harry apparated out from the ghastly Manor and straight to Grimauld Place.

Lying Draco carefully on a bed, his hope diminished.

Draco was broken.

A diagnostic charm listed more injuries than Harry read, but included four broken ribs, broken nose, fractured jaw, multiple lacerations, burns, highly reduced vision in one eye, torn cartilage of the anal passage, ruptured spleen, significant blood loss, malnutrition, extreme dehydration...

The list went on. Harry dropped it, and turned to Draco. He had nothing to clothe him, revealing deep wounds which littered his torso, arms and legs; his left elbow jutted out strangely and writing was carved into his skin with deep grooves similar yet worse than on Hermione's arm.

Harry fetched a bowl and water, washing his wounds carefully. He then summoned water and a blood replenishing potion, administering it with the spell he had seen Snape use on Bellatrix. He summoned Essence of Dittany and applied it where he could, then scoured the library for books on healing, coming back to check Draco every five minutes.

Not wanting to be disturbed, he threw a few wards around the house quickly, to prevent jubilant celebrants trying to fetch him.

Before starting acts of major healing, he had to put the patient into a coma, which was not to be got wrong – too strong the spell and Draco may never wake up, to weak and he might awaken whilst his flesh was being sewn together, or bones yanked into place. It was undoubtedly tricky.

He next fed Draco a Nourishment potion, and then got to work with mending bones, cleaning the injuries, more blood replenishing potion, trying to close up the open wounds. He dithered on the one he recognised as what Voldermort had performed on Pettigrew to give him his hand back, but the tear in Draco's left lung was more important than sentimental worries.

Eventually, as the night rose and daylight faded, Harry slumped into a bed beside Draco's that he had conjured, and closed his eyes. He had been working for twelve hours on Draco, and done deadly battle the night before. Exhaustion took over, and he fell into a dreamless slumber.

.

Waking earlier than his body wanted, Harry pulled himself out of bed and checked on Draco. He was beginning to look better, there was more colour to his cheeks and he was breathing easier.

There were some inflictions Harry couldn't heal through magic – the writing that had been carved onto him still stood, the bones in his right arm had completely shattered and may never be able to be put back together. His mental health remained untouched, and whether it was beyond repair remained to be seen.

Harry answered the call of his own body for food and relief, before taking Draco out of the coma. Despite having lifted the spell, his friend did not wake, and, under his watchful gaze, Harry let him sleep.

.

Draco felt soft cotton sheets around him, he was lying in a warm, soft bed under comfortably dim lighting. It was a wonderful dream; a welcome escape from the dark dampness and hard cold floor of the dungeons. He did not want to wake up.

.

Harry opened the door and stepped inside, having got himself lunch, and was carrying a bowl of soup in case Draco woke up. He heard a whimper coming from the bed. "Draco?" There was a muffled squeal and the boy pushed himself away, he fell onto the floor and scrambled to the corner of the room, breathing fast and curling up into a tight ball.

_What the hell have they done to him!?_

"Draco, Draco, it's me, Harry. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." But his words were lost to the frantic insanity of Draco, who only made himself impossibly smaller, sobbing for mercy.

Harry was stuck – he couldn't approach him in case he made it worse, and he couldn't leave him unless Draco hurt himself. He chose the only other option – to sit quietly in the opposite corner of the room until Draco calmed down.

He banished the furniture so it was only the two of them sitting in the bare room. Eventually, Draco stopped sobbing, then grew still and, finally, uncurled to peek at Harry. He stared at him in all out confusion and fear, he was tense, and did not move from watching Harry for what felt like an age.

Eventually Harry broke the silence. "Draco," He said quietly. The blonde jerked in reaction, "You need to eat something. Would you like some soup?" At this his eyes widened and he drew back, fear pronounced heavily across his face and a small whimper escaped his mouth. "You need to eat. It isn't poisoned, you can have it. Here," Harry took out his wand to levitate the bowl over too him, but at this Draco almost screamed again and curled up, begging for mercy and forgiveness.

_Oh dear Godric help me! _Harry thought, and then realised that it was the wand that must be the problem. "Draco." He called, firmly. The sufferer grew still immediately. "Watch." He looked. "I'm going to throw my wand over there. Okay? No wands." Harry threw his wand to the corner of the room, and then showed his empty hands.

Draco was still trembling, and eyed him with wariness and suspicion. "Now, do you want something to eat?" Other than fear, Draco gave him no response. "Come on, you can eat it. It isn't poisoned. It's okay to eat it. It wont hurt you." Draco's eyes darted around the room and between Harry and the bowl. Harry concentrated on sending the bowl gently across the floor with wandless magic till it reached Draco.

Draco stared at the bowl of soup, as if expecting it to rise up and become a foul toothed monster. He looked at Harry again, then once around the room, then finally bent down to slurp at it. Harry wanted to offer him a spoon, but he wouldn't disrupt this.

The moment Draco took a sip he sprung back up, eyes darting about, expecting the worst. When none came he slowly bent down to drink it a second time, then repeated his what he had done. This happened about five times until eventually, on the sixth, he did not look up until he had finished the whole thing.

He sat for a few minutes in confusion, wondering when he had to pay his Price, and why it hadn't come yet. He was in a different room to one he had ever been in, and there was a stranger and food that had cost him no Price. It made absolutely no sense.

Harry would have given Draco more food, but knew from experience it would all come back up again anyway. The best thing now for his recovery would be rest. "Draco?" The ex-captive looked up, "Would you like to sleep now?" Incomprehension spread across his face, a seemingly persistent emotion, and again he made no indication. "Do you want to go to sleep?"

"Yes, Master?" He mumbled, quietly.

It was Harry's turn to freeze. _What did Malfoy just call me? _"Malfoy, I'm not your master, okay? You don't have a master."

Draco looked at Harry as if he were ludicrous. "Master." He repeated, quietly, to himself.

Harry bit his tongue and fought off tears, _How am I ever going to get him back? How can anyone be so broken after less than two weeks?_

He summoned a mattress and warm quilt, not wanting anything hard that could cause any potential for harm or damage in the room. He cast a cushioning charm on the walls and floor, so it now felt softer and bouncy when he crossed it. He said goodbye and left Draco to sleep.

.

Taking down the wards around Grimauld Place, Harry suddenly realised that he was using a lot of wandless magic. And easily, in fact it seemed to have received a major boost. Not contemplating long on it though, he grabbed a handful of floo powder and fire-called the Burrow.

"Ron!?" He shouted, "Hermione?" Footsteps could be heard on the stairs as Ron came down, bleary eyed, and Hermione just behind him. "Where is everyone?"

"Shell cottage. Mum can't stand it here. Too many memories of..." He gulped and Hermione put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Yeah."

Harry nodded. "Well, never mind then. It's not really-"

"I'll come over." Hermione interrupted. She looked at Ron, who averted his gaze.

"Ron, don't worry mate." Harry said, "You do what you want. We all know what it's like to loose family – Hermione sent her parents away, I lost Sirius... you do whatever you need to."

"Yeah," He said, shakily, "Thanks, mate." He nodded at his girlfriend. "Go on, 'Mione, I'll see you later. You and Harry need to catch up." She kissed him on the cheek and came through.

The two embraced, before sitting down at the table, and Harry put the kettle on with a wave of his hand.

Hermione raised an eyebrow "Since when could you do that?"

"I dunno, I just noticed it today. It's like, after the battle, my magic just got a lot more powerful."

Hermione nodded, frowning. "It's probably because Voldermort's soul isn't fighting it anymore. You remember how the Horcrux's were fighting to stay alive and not be destroyed? Yours must have known that restricting your magic would help it survive. And now you're released from that..."

"Sounds good," Harry nodded, it seemed like a valid theory, but held no interest to him in the present sate of affairs. "Look, I know I didn't tell you about what happened at the Manor but – well to cut a long story short Draco – Malfoy – risked his life so I could escape. He's alive, thank Merlin, but, well, he's not in a good state."

Hermione grimaced, "In what way?"

"Well, physically he was on the brink of death when I found him, I've done my best to heal what I can, but he's gonna be heavily scarred. Mentally... Hermione, he's totally lost it. I don't think he even knows who he is, who I am - he isn't the same person." He put his head in his hands, "I don't know if recovery is even possible."

Hermione drummed her fingers on the table, biting back her remorse. "Can I see him?" She asked, quietly.

"I dunno, he'll freak out for sure." Harry frowned, weighing it up.

"How about you show me your memories of what he's been like? Is there a penseive anywhere?"

"I think so – _accio penseive_!" The bowl flew onto the tabletop before them and Harry removed the memories of that morning, putting the silvery substance into it. Hermione dipped in and, for good measure, Harry did too, to see if there was anything he had missed.

When they re-emerged, Hermione was frowning in concentration. Harry said nothing to her, knowing with patience she would hopefully figure it out. "You can drive some-one insane in a matter of hours, if you hold them under the cruciatous curse for that long. But this seems different. Or more, at least. It's like he's forgotten his old life and how normal... That's it!" She sat up straight, "Harry, they've wiped his memory! He's like that because all that he can remember is, well, whatever they put him through."

"Oh god," Harry moaned in despair.

"No! Don't you see? It can be undone, there's only been a very few occasions when somebody's entire memory has been sufficiently wiped – and now Voldermort's dead, it should be relatively easy. Especially with you being, well, you."

There was finally a glimmer of hope, a possibility. "So give him his memories back and he'll-"

"Harry, this isn't a one-way-ticket out, it's not a cheap fix.," She told him, sternly, "He's still going to have to deal with and process whatever happened. And you too," She put a hand up to Harry's protests, "I know you've been coping amazingly so far, but it isn't natural." She fixed him with a steely gaze, "It's gonna come right back and hit you hard, so prepare for it."

He nodded, that sound true enough. "Hermione, have you done memory restorations before? I really don't know what to do and, y'know, I don't want to mess it up." There was a desperate plea to his voice.

"Well, it is rather complex. I can show you down here, but you should use your wand, wandless magic can be quite unpredictable and messy." She advised.

Harry bit his lip, remembering Draco's reaction to his wand. He explained the conundrum, but Hermione shook her head. "Harry, you're being ruled by your emotions again. If Draco has a breakdown because of the wand, he can recover. If you get this memory spell wrong – well, you saw what happened to Lockhart."

He sighed and resigned himself to the future erupting chaos. "Alright. But I think I'm going to need you with me then, if that's alright, so things don't get too out of hand."

"Sure." She showed him what to do before they went upstairs.

.

They walked up to Draco's room, and opened the door quietly. Draco had heard it though, and roused himself, pushing back into the furthest corner and curling up, a whimper escaped his throat and he held his arms over his head, doing his best to protect himself.

"Draco, Draco, it's alright. We're not going to hurt you." It took a while for Draco to calm down before Harry could ask "Do you remember me? Harry? And this is Hermione, do you remember her?"

Draco only looked at them with incomprehension.

Slowly, Harry crossed the room to pick up his wand, when Draco whispered. "You were the other one." Harry turned around, Draco's voice could barely be heard. It was a harsh, hissing whisperish sound, "You were the other pet. Who left. You're the one who made it bad." His voice was full of unmerited accusation.

Harry swallowed, guilt washing over him. He needed to make this right. "I'll make it good, okay? I'm going to make it better, Draco."

"Stop calling me that," He hissed, "Master doesn't like it."

"Draco, you don't have a master. He's-"

"Harry," Hermione warned. "That might not help. We need to get his memory back before he can even start to think sanely."

He nodded. "Right," He agreed, stooping down to pick his wand up. Draco gave a howl of pure terror and flung himself again into the corner again, cowering and crying pitifully.

Hermione gritted her teeth and raised her wand to cast _petrificus totalus_, but Harry stopped her. "Hermione wait a moment." He turned to Draco and spoke loudly and firmly "Lie still." The effect was immediate as Draco fell silent and obeyed without hesitation or question. You could see the anguish in his eyes as he stared at the wand point fearfully.

Harry mimicked the movement and words he had practised downstairs and Draco's face went momentarily blank.

In a tense silence, they watched him as he started to convulse and thrash around, at which point they restrained him as best they could to stop him hurting himself in the throes of his memory. Eventually, they faded, and Harry and Hermione stood back. Some moments passed before, at length, Draco stirred. He opened his stormy grey eyes and looked around, discontently. He noted Harry and Hermione, and as it all washed back to him, he kissed a sweet goodbye to the rest of the world, to his pain, and submitted himself to the darkness.

.*.*.*.

**Five Years Later**

Harry placed the flowers on the grave with remorse. Perhaps someone could have saved the young Malfoy, who had been far too young to meet Death by any means. It had been a long and tiresome day, but there was no doubt the deceased child would be commemorated.

"Do you think she would have liked them?" He asked,

"Yeah," Draco replied, "Lilies were my sisters favourite flower. Thanks."

Harry nodded and smiled. "Well, we passed the legislation in the end, huh?"

Draco grinned, just that day the papers had finally been signed that any child whose parents, grandparents or carers who were under the wizarding law must declare the birth of their child within a month, and their death, should it occur, which would need to be examined and validated by a Ministry-independent authority. Namely, the one he and Harry ran. And a month was _far _to short to determine a child's magical ability. There would be few, if any, more cases of Hycanthis – the name of Draco's sister.

The two made their way back to the cottage, to talk, write or read. Harry tended the garden with Frank and Alice Longbottom, who had been finally released from St Mungo's to stay with Harry, Draco, and Neville – when he was there. Draco still had amendments to the House Elf Enactment to work out with Hermione, but postponed it until tomorrow as George dropped by with a new idea for an exploding bath bomb, which he needed Draco's help for.

The two of them lived harmoniously together, in great comfort and contentment. All was well.

.

***** I have Finished it. Of my god. More than seven months and, finally, here it is. Completed. Thank you for reading this terribly winding story, I really hope you liked it. And – ah, sorry for the huge rip off from Hot Fuzz with the whole grave thing, I couldn't resist!**

**And JK's ending words – but, come on, I can resist everything but temptation.**

**At some point I will do a sequel (well, sequel to the main events, but before the five year mark) where Draco and Harry get together (as in, Drarry slash), but that may be a while. More things will be explained in there, but I suppose I should at least say that Voldermort kept Draco alive for a few reasons – mainly to make an example to other potential traitors and to punish his parents, who had let him go. (They may have been harsh but – especially in Narcissa's case – very much loved him.)**

**Once more, massive thank you to the wonderful ShadowFireHime-Sama, Shadow Entity****, yukikiralacus, Katie, misho-pottercullen, Eliyah and all you guests who reviewed – and all future reviewers - it's really appreciated! I will probably give this a minor re-write, so suggestions are gratefully received and taken on board, big thanks for them too!**

**So, for the last time, from Imprisonment in Malfoy Manor – Thank You and Goodbye! :D xxx**


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